The Mystery Guest Nita Prose Novels & Stories

I cooked most of the dishes, I tasted everything, and it was delicious, delightful, to say the least! “Let me see him,” I briskly wiped my hands clean with a crisp white cloth before following her. My wolf started to panic in my core, leaving me confused. If anything, I should be the one panicking. It’s my fault, not hers. I kept telling her that, but she turned a deaf ear to my words until we entered the private dining room. And boom! I finally understood her angst. Derrick freaking Wolfsborne was my mystery guest!

Something about him made my heart race, even though my brain screamed to stay far away. The door creaked open, and my head snapped up. One of the maids poked her head in timidly. “Mrs. Moretti,” she said, her voice soft. “We’ve prepared tea in the dining room. Mr. Moretti has a guest, and he’s requested your presence.” A guest? My stomach twisted. What kind of guest? Mafia men? Business associates? I forced myself to nod and put down the book. My body still felt off—hot and restless, like I couldn’t get comfortable no matter what I did.

The address my spy had given me led us to a narrow townhouse on a quiet street. A dented silver hatchback sat crooked in the driveway, and the blinds in every window were pulled tight. Elle knocked once. It took Nita several seconds to open the door. She was half-dressed to go out—heels dangling from one hand, a coat thrown over her shoulder. The second she saw me, her expression shifted into something between irritation and guarded caution. “What do you want?” she asked flatly. Elle didn’t waste time. “We’re here about the article you wrote on my husband. The false one.”

This was why the Queen of the Nights, which was extremely obscure to the upper-class circles, was very popular among them. Nollace’s expression dimmed, looking cold and sullen. “It seems that she’s trying to please that distinguished guest and find a way out for herself.” ‘I might’ve underestimated Lisa’s determination to survive.’ Edison asked, “What should we do now? If the guest behind her...

Laughingly pecking the top of my head. *** After the meal, I’d confessed to Mike I needed to use the restroom. He told me where to find it. But Nita swept over to link my elbow with hers. “C’mon. I’ll show ya.” I nodded. Wondering if this was some kind of a trap. I’d been around enough women to know that once they got out of sight of the men, they could often become venomous. Looking at Nita’s tall, willowy frame with perfectly waved brown hair knitted into a braid surrounding her crown. Leaving the lower layer in beautiful swells, I was certainly sure she could be.

This time he paid close attention to how Tristan swallowed saliva and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other “Look who I invited on the show today,” Roth whispered in Tristan’s ear, the hair on the back of Tristan’s neck standing up as Roth’s warm breath hit his neck. Tristan remained stoned to his place, his chest clenched as Roth continued to breathe down his neck, “Who?” The sound that came out of Tristan was barely more than a whisper, but the quizzical look on Tristan’s face was genuine - they had never had guests before. How could Roth risk revealing his identity to someone as the host of the show? Who was this person he trusted just as much as Tristan, if not more

Rose winked and she laughed. “Goodnight mum and have a good night's rest” she went out of the parlor to the dining area before ascending up the stairs. *** “Hello, there is something I might know about Daniella Bamidele’s disappearance.” “Who is this and where are you calling from?” the woman at the other end asked and he could hear a shuffling and movement in the background but he knew if he stayed longer, they might track him and that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

“That’s my work. That projector? It’s mine.” The room inhaled. The auctioneer faltered. Nathan’s expression flitted surprise, annoyance, then practised sorrow. He raised his hands slowly, as if to say ‘calm down.''’ “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said smoothly. “We have a guest who is confused. If this project concerns her, please point out the default. Show us where it fails.” The bait was set. I felt Melissa’s eyes on me, sharp as flint. Melissa pov When she spoke, I could smell desperation. Perfect. It made the audience hungry for scandal. I rose and paced like the queen of this little stage.

While they were all looking at each other, wondering who would partake in the game, a feminine voice came from the rare and they all were forced to look. “I,” Natalie raised her hand. As she walked through to the front, the sound from the heels of her shoes, added to announcement. The other guest clapped as walked past them to the front and took her seat. “I know the host, in fact I don’t just know the host, I have a relationship with the host, right Levi,” she smiled. “Whats your name ma’am,” he asked. “Natalie, Natalie Gomez. I’m his wife,” she smiled as she looked at Levi.

But for the presence of Lucien Delano’s bodyguards and the stream of security men who silently prowled around the grounds, it would have been mistaken for the home of a wealthy businessman. The Don gave a curt nod in greeting and indicated that the guests sit down. “I brought dinner too, broccoli cauliflower casserole and a meat loaf,’ said Melissa, grinning and producing a bag with a flourish as she smiled slightly in the general direction of the Mafia Boss. She beamed at her friend affectionately, ’Though knowing you, Proserpina, I know you must have whipped up a feast!” The two women disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, Melissa clasping Proserpina’s arm, their heads close together